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“Madison,” I say her name like a warning. One she ignores.
“We need to drop a house on her.” My sister does not care at all that I’m turning my scary-bitch level up to maximum.
“No.”
That gets her attention and Mads drops her fork, letting it clatter to her plate in a way that grates on my eardrums. I don’t let myself wince. I’ve spent the last three years perfecting my unflappable, unwavering, don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. Unfortunately, Madison is a lot like me. To be fair, I love that she takes after me, just not when she aims it back in my face.
“We hate her,” From Mads it sounds more like a dare. Challenging me to disagree.
“We don’t even know her,” I say. “Maybe we need to give her a chance.”
A few more dates. A couple months at least. Maybe this relationship won’t go anywhere, but maybe it will. Either way, Max deserves a chance to figure it out for himself.
Madison is still glaring at me as Hayley spears a pancake off her sister’s plate.
“She seems okay.” Hayley refuses to meet Madison’s eyes at the confession. “I ran into her getting coffee the other day.”
“See?” I say to Madison, “She seems okay.”
“If she steps one toe out of line…” Madison stuffs another bite of food into her mouth, her eyes narrowing as if I’m the one causing problems. I meet her gaze head on. If Stephanie Howell sets one toe out of line, Max will break up with her.
“Then we’ll break her kneecaps and run her out of town.” I tell my sister, and she grins, her cheeks full of food.
“And you wonder why she’s so bloodthirsty.” Hayley pushes her empty plate away.
“We don’t demand blood sacrifices right away.” I shrug. “We hope for the best…”
“But prepare for the worst,” they finish the sentence with me and it’s my turn to smile. God, I love these gremlins.
“We don’t just hate people the minute we meet them.” I tell my sisters. “Give them a chance to disappoint you first, okay?”
I gather the plates and take them into the kitchen, dumping them all into the sink. I let the water run until it’s scalding hot and start lathering up my sponge with soap. I have a dishwasher, but I still need to get most of the stuff off plates and bowls before I can load them up. Especially sticky chocolate and syrup residue. I expect my sisters might let themselves out while I do the dishes and tidy my small kitchen. It’s become second nature to care for all my siblings. Just like it’s become second nature for them to accept it. In theory, it’s something I should work on. I should let them be more independent, fight their own battles, but not yet. I’m not ready to step back. What would I even do?
Madison heads back to the living room and I assume she’s gathering her things, but Hayley stays and asks about my day. I can’t tell her much, but I give her the rundown on the new project, making sure that I leave Vic’s name out of the conversation. I force myself to smile at the right moments. I want this to sound like something I’m excited for—because I am, I really am—and not something I’m upset over. And okay, I’m a touch resentful that I was given this job, only to have my boss already have gone behind my back to plan before I had a chance to do anything of value—and yes, I know he’s my boss and can do what he wants with the marketing department—but I’m handling it. I’d appreciate the vote of confidence, seeing as I’ve never let them down before. The one time last season doesn’t count.
I’d handle it a lot better if I’d gotten Vic to say yes, but I’m still handling it.
“Did you pick a player to work with yet?” Hayley props her chin on her hands. “Mads and I can give you our unbiased opinion on who would draw in the most viewers.”
“It won’t matter.” Madison slides back onto her stool, pulling one of my Arctic sweatshirts over her head. “We all know that despite the lectures, the guy she needs is the only one she won’t ask.”
I know who they’re talking about. Everyone with eyes and a working brain knows who they’re talking about, and I still ask, “Who?” Just for laughs.
“Obviously Victor Varg.” Madison sighs his name like she’s talking about Gibson Hawk, heartthrob rockstar extraordinaire and lead singer of Cast & Prey. It’s only force of will that stops me from rolling my eyes.
“Why won’t she ask him?” Hayley asks, and I want to stamp my foot. I want to scream at the fluorescent lights in my ceiling. I want to pull my hair out at the roots, because I’m a goddamn professional and I would have asked him. I would have.
Eventually.
Probably.
Maybe.
No, I would have. I would’ve sucked up my pride and asked him to help with the campaign because he is the best choice. I don’t know if I’m frustrated that everyone seems to have made that decision for me, or if I’m pissed off that despite everyone being sure he’d never say no, the jerk didn’t actually say yes.
“She hates him,” Madison says, and Hayley nods like this was information she knew but had forgotten. Which is ridiculous since it isn’t even information thatIknew. I don’thateVarg. I just…. I prefer… I don’t…
“I thought we had to wait for people to ‘let us down,’” Hayley raises her fingers and scrunches them around her face, mimicking floating quotation marks. I don’t appreciate it one bit. “Before we decide to hate them.”
